Today I deleted my Miracles for Mito auto signature from my Google account.
And I wondered, “will I ever be an Executive Director again?”
And then I wondered if I wanted to be an Executive Director again.
Many have reached out to me as we have closed Miracles for Mito, asking if I am okay. Some have noticed a change in my tone, perhaps an underlying touch of sadness.
Ugh. I hate sadness. Sadness sucks. I am much better at happy.
And I appreciate those who have called me out on my tone. Yes, I have sugar coated this transition a bit. Yes, my heart is bruised a bit.
Ironic isn’t it? I have posted here when Hubs and I have gone through tough times, chatted about my inmate journey with grief, cried like a baby with you when we moved out of our old house, but I have diverted this very important, painful decision…..nothing to see here….nothing to see.….keep moving on….
I wonder if I will ever be so passionate about a cause again. I know the answer is no and I know that’s okay. Nothing is stronger than Mama love coupled with grief and the desire, no……the NEED to change the world.
I still have a little ember burning in my belly but it’s not enough to burn the house down.
I have learned that this rare disease space is hard. Family support is hard and a huge trigger for my own trauma. We are all fighting to tell our stories. It is in our stories that our kiddos live on. In our stories that their legacy prevails. As a result, we are driven by broken hearts. Collaboration is hard. We all want to be the hero in advocating for a horrible, rare disease that has no good outcome and crappy federal funding.
I do not regret my decision. I am excited to see how we can rally around my brother and move the needle on mitochondrial research in a local capacity. But I do believe you can live in a place of certainty and heartache; knowing that your heart will heal and trust the certainty of your decision.
And as thoughts come during the winter solstice, during our darkest days, it is time for me to trust what I cannot see next- feeling, touching, reaching out for this next truth.
Many of close the year with bruised hearts. May the certainty of our decisions carry us to our next light. May the light in me honor the light in you.
And yes, hard feelings are still hard.